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Inside a box does not fit even half of what I have found
and this is over.
Right now that the days are longer
I have proposed myself fewer tasks than in the whole year,
still the baits are in the water
like everything sweet.
I don't know what to expect from here
I don't know if there is something to wait for.
Living comes slow to absorb it
the last time is serene,
like my soul.
I'll keep looking with bridge eyes
because I've always believed that something was missing:
today the years say it,
heart was missing.
The walls have fallen as slowly as necessary.
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